


To Join The Angels

by unobia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Eventual Smut, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5982096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unobia/pseuds/unobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe<br/>In a world where the truth is hidden from all eyes but the few who claim the name Angel, Team Free Will must make a stand. But even the most professional of agents can fall undeniably, irresponsibly and painfully in love. How far would one man go to join the Angels?</p><p>-Trigger Warning throughout, will not be marking individual chapters.<br/>-gun violence, murder, general dark themes<br/>[Hopefully updates every Tuesday, maybe more scarce, will depend on reads and writers' block]<br/>-Rated M for strong language, possible violence, maybe smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Seeing Angel

**_Now_ **

He felt the barrel against the back of his skull, cold and steady. They'd found him, finally. Took their time. 

He stayed deathly still, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the face behind the trigger would slip up, just once. But of course, Angels never did. To be an Angel you could be no less than perfect. An Angel never hesitates, never wavers, and most importantly, never misses. He'd known that from the get go. It was why he was here, after all.

\-----<>\-----

**_Then_ **

"We've got a trace." Familiar yet long waited on words filled the air and pulled at the tension. 

"I need coordinates." Castiel's voice carried through the room of some of the worlds most efficient, most skilled technicians and hackers and agents of all sorts, all focused on the task at hand. Their commanding Angel watched on with anticipation, always enjoying the chase, calling the occasional order to whoever needed to hear it.

A satellite image appeared on the main screen, focusing closer and closer in on the rogue trace. The image became a park, then a park bench, and on that bench sat an average looking man with an average looking phone. "Get the number." 

Men and women sat at computers typed away at their keyboards, the constant clicking sounds creating a continuous drone. To an outsider, the room would appear to be a frantic mess, with everyone trying their best to achieve the same goal in different ways. But that was the beauty of the Angel system. No-one is who they appear to be, and all in that room were calm and each person was an individual part of a tiny puzzle. 

A number popped up on the main screen and a couple of relieved agents leaned back into their seats for a moment's rest before the next order was given out.

"Hey Cas, phone's under name of 'Gene Simmons'. I like this guy.”

“Don’t call me that. Agent Gabriel, you chose to work with the lower ranks, which makes me your superior.” Castiel tried to keep a stern expression, but Gabriel raised a knowing brow in disapproval, cracking a smile from the man in charge. 

“You Archs are so full of yourselves.” He sighed with a breathy laugh.

“That’s Archangel to you, I could have you demoted, Agent. Anyway, the point is, this guy’s an idiot. There’s no way he can be the guy we’re looking for.”

“You’re looking at it the wrong way. No amateur leaves a trail as perfect as that to follow, even when they’re not trying to cover their tracks they leave hiccups and inconsistencies everywhere, but this is a clear path, and it has to have been laid out on purpose. He wants us to spot him.”

Gabriel turned back to his computer, typing rather aimlessly now that they had ‘Gene Simmons’ located. “He can’t know we exist, let alone be trying to get our attention.” He knew Castiel would have an answer, and that was why the archangels had put him on case supervision. He always seemed to know what was up. “We carry gas around for a reason.”

“Hallucinations may be well and good for most, but there was always going to be someone who could connect the dots from outside. It’s just happened a lot quicker than expected.” Cas watched the CCTV and satellite footage on the screen as the trees around the bench swayed at four frames per second, and was only a little surprised when he started to look around. Staring into the surveillance camera, he paused for a moment, and waved.

Dean Winchester sat alone on the park bench, earning a couple of funny looks as he waved at an empty street corner, except what the onlookers couldn’t see were the hundreds of eyes watching him behind the lens. He knew he had them, he just had to wait. _This is it,_ he thought. _It’s time to join the Angels._


	2. Castiel, The Hot Boss Chic

**_Then_ **

Dean sat on his bench in the park, surrounded by browning trees in the dawning of autumn. He watched patiently as two men paced towards him, an exasperated and slightly confused expression gracing both their faces. They were dressed as averagely as Dean, and were just as far from average underneath.

“What can I do for you fellas?” Dean asked, trying to minimalise the remaining hints of his Texas upbringing in his accent. Y’know, just in case. Of course he knew exactly what they wanted, he just thought he might as well be polite.

“You need to come with us. There are highly trained unmarked gunmen surrounding you and 3 distance shooters in the buildings around us.”

Dean started to feel the nervousness he’d been avoiding begin to creep up on him. “Why would you need those? D’you think I’m gonna just take off after all the effort I made?” He stood up slowly, having been lectured on the dos and don’ts of hostage situations. 

“I’m going to need you to follow me.” The first man announced, ignoring Dean’s attempt at friendly discussion. The second man watched him sternly as Dean started to walk behind the first.

Number Two wore a heavy jacket and relatively fitted but not too tight shirt underneath. Even though he knew it was most likely to allow free movement in chases or man to man fights, Dean couldn’t help but be a little jealous of his clearly solid torso. He nearly brought it up, being the conversationalist that he was, but then he remembered why Number Two’s jacket was so big. He was clearly hiding the _big guns_.

Dean chuckled inwardly at his futile attempt at humour, but was soon brought back to reality by the little red Ford parked on the side of the road. “What? No super agent cars?” He earned himself a glare from Number One. “Not even an unmarked truck?” Only glares.

His arms were pulled up above his head and he was unforgivingly patted down, his pistol being taken from the back of his jeans and the penknife pulled from his shoe. Strangely, the modest flip knife he kept in a pocket in his sleeve remained undetected, but he thought it best not to mention it.

He was shoved rather unceremoniously into the back seat of the little red car, Number One getting in behind. Number Two swung into the passenger seat by the equally average looking driver, and no one said a word. At least Dean could hold onto that part of his spy movie fantasies. Now all he needed was the hot chic in charge.

The drive was fairly short, from what Dean could tell. The back windows were blacked out and Number Two had put up a barrier between the front and back, so all Dean had to go by was his watch and the occasional left or right turn.

When the car finally reached its destination, the child lock was switched off and Dean’s door was opened from the outside. The world outside the car was not a Batcave, nor a high-tech rebel hacker paradise. They were in an empty car park, on the bottom level with only one way back up to the surface. The only other way out Dean could see was a green door in the opposite direction, at least a five second run away, which was more than enough time to pull a gun and shoot him down, and Dean had no doubt that these agents’ aim was impeccable.

“Dean Winchester.” A low, gravelly voice sounded from a few feet away. Dean turned to see an expressionless man in a beige trench coat and blue tie.

“Face recognition?”

“Face recognition.”

“Right.” Dean took a few steps forward, away from the car. “So Who the hell are you? What about my hot boss chic?”

Trenchcoat cracked a smile. “Well I’m all you’ll get in the way of hot boss chics. My name is Castiel. I’m the Angel Superior of your case.”

“See now all that Angel crap ain’t gonna work on me, but then again you probably know that.”

Gabriel knew Castiel well enough by now to recognise the signs of Cas over calculating. There was a moments pause before Castiel knew what he wanted to say to the know it all who seemed prepared to challenge his deserving of his title.

“Dean Winchester, you attempted to bypass the security of our online network. This brings me to believe that you confirmed the existence of the Angel Network by making connections between the hallucinations of previous case targets.” He paused only for a moment to take a glance at Dean’s reaction. The plaid clad lad stood with his left arm across his waist, his right elbow resting against his wrist, and his nose resting against his right fist. 

 _You’re an interesting one, Dean Winchester,_ Cas thought to himself. “You established that the targets’ stories about Angels and Archangels weren’t completely imagined.” Cas turned to Gabriel for a moment, eyes squinting and mouth twisted and scrunched into its ‘Cas is thinking about something’ shape. Game raised a warning brow, but of course that went completely ignored by Castiel.

“I feel that it is appropriate to tell you that we carry hallucinogenic gas on us at all times, even in the base.” Gabriel huffed out of frustration, turning and walking towards the green door and pushing through it. Castiel, uncaring, continued. “Though you probably wouldn’t be affected in the same way, you would likely be confused and knocked out by the gas, and by that point, an authorised agent can approve your elimination, or we can organise a permanent trip to a mental institution.”

Dean was intrigued by this so called ‘Castiel’. “So are you one of those authorised agents?”

“Not yet. I’m hoping to be given Archangel status in the near future. But Gabriel is, the man the just left. He disapproves of my decision to share network confidential information with you, so if you refuse our offer, he will most likely issue a warrant on your life. Dean Winchester, why are you here?”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me that? You’re the one that had me shoved in a tiny red car with blacked out windows and drive to a car park.”

“I recommend you cooperate since I just risked my entire career to give you a better shot at saying alive.”

Dean scowled, his arms crossing over his chest and his questionable temper beginning to show. “I want a job.”

“Why?”

“The real world isn’t the real world thanks to the Angel Network. I want to be in on things.”

“Good.”

“How is that good? Shouldn’t you want me locked up in an institute or something?”

Castiel stood silently, hands still in his pockets, not having moved since the car had arrived. Lower ranked agents still stood on duty, surrounding the pair. He heard the inner security system begin to bleep from behind the green door, meaning that Gabriel was returning with or without whoever he’d spoken to. “Dean Winchester, you are a talented programmer and would be an asset to one of our teams. If you don’t want a death warrant issued and taken care of within the next two minutes, I advise you to answer yes to every question I ask you. If any questions are asked by anyone else, use your common sense.”

As if on cue, Gabriel paced back through the door, Raphael following close behind. 

Cas gave Dean a final look of warning, and began to ask Dean the set of questions that could save his life. “Dean Winchester, are you prepared to lose your name to join the Angels?”

Dean gave Cas a confused look, but replied with a reluctant “Yes,” soon enough.

“Dean Winchester, are you prepared to lose your friends and family to join the Angels?”

This was the only thing Dean had truly been expecting, so he answered quickly. “Yes.”

“Dean Winchester, are you prepared for Dean Winchester to be legally deceased?”

“Yes.” So he was technically going to die either way. Right. Great.

“Dean Winchester, are you prepared to lose everything you are, have been and ever will be to join the Angels?”

“Yes.”

“Dean Winchester, are you prepared to commit your life to the purpose of the Angel Network and to obey the order of those above you to join the Angels.”

“Yes.”

“Then, Dean Winchester, you are now no longer Dean Winchester. You are an Angel.”


	3. Lucifer, You're Screwed.

**_Then_ **

“I’ll convince Gabriel to let me train you personally.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t like you and I do.”

The Archangels had approved Dean’s initiation, and all that was left now before Dean could start training, was a tour of the place, and a new name, since he’d just technically killed himself off.

“There are inner dorms to reduce traffic in and out and in turn, attention to the base, but Seraphs and Archs are considered high profile and responsible enough to maintain personal apartments outside the grounds.”

“Are you one of those?”

“I’m a seraph, yes.”

“And what’s that?”

“High command, ranked only below Archangels, of which there are three. Gabriel, Raphael and Michael.”

“What about Lucifer?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel stopped walking down the long corridor into the base and turned to face, well, I might as well stick with Dean for now.

“Archangel Lucifer? There are four biblical Archangels, the last being Lucifer. Sure he got sent to Hell and everything, but he’s an Angel all the same.”

“No one chose the name Lucifer because we are a force of good, or at least that’s what we have to be able to convince ourselves of. There were three founders of our organisation, and since then, newly appointed Archangels step up and take their names. There have never been more than 3 Archangels appointed at once. There were a couple of years when the Raphael at the time let the power get to his head and tried to overthrow the other two, but that as resolved and new leaders were appointed.” Castiel began to walk again.

Dean didn’t like the silence that hung between them. It felt too sterile, too precise. “So what job am I going in for?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You’re one of the best technical programmers I’ve seen in a long time, and I could really do with someone like you on my tech team. But I’ll give you the same training as I’d give anyone else, an then hopefully I’ll be able to see all your strengths. I’ll offer you a a place in a specific branch, depending on what we need at the time and what you’d be right for, but to a certain extent, it’s up to you.”

“A certain extent?”

“Say, for instance, you’d be terrible in the field and you had a horrific sense of awareness and judgement, but you wanted to be a field agent. I wouldn’t allow you to enter that branch, simply because it would be a complete waste of resources, so when you choose, you might as well be reasonable.”

They reached the end of the corridor and Castiel placed his hand on a panel by the side of the door. Dean herd a buzzing sound for a moment, followed by a bleep and a click, allowing Castiel to push through the door and into the reception. It looked like any ordinary reception space, but then again, Dean figured that was the point.

“Gail.”

“Castiel.” the woman behind the desk greeted him with a slight smile.

“Registering Dean Winchester.” 

“Right through there. System’s all set up for you.”

“Thank you.” Castiel led Dean across the room to another door, this one equipped with the same panel. Castiel opened the door and Den followed him through, the lights turning on as they entered.

The room was relatively small, with a couple of different machines lining the walls. Castiel started at a computer sizes screen on the wall by the door, tapping and swiping away. Dean edged over and watched the words on the screen. Copies of his birth certificate and medical records were all appearing and filling the screen, and Castiel tapped the confirm box on the bottom right corner. The records and forms disappeared and the screen was left with a long list of names and an empty bar at the top.

“Time to choose your name. You can pick any biblical reference, direct or recognised alternatives, that hasn’t already been chosen.”

“Any name in the Bible? At all?”

“Yes.”

Castiel tapped the empty bar and a keyboard filled the bottom half of the screen. He stepped back to give Dean access.

Dean knew exactly what he was going to go for. The system probably wouldn’t let him, but it was worth a try. He typed it in and pressed confirm, earning a warning “Dean,” from Castiel. A plastic card was posted through a slot in the wall, ‘LUCIFER’ written in bold across the top.

“Dean you can’t call yourself Lucifer.”

“Looks like I can.”

“I’m going to lose my job. I’m going to be jobless. Why do I bother?” He sighed in frustration and grabbed Deans right wrist. He pulled dean to the next machine, swiping the card in the slot on the side, activating the system. He held Dean’s hand against the panel until the system beeped at him, before taking his other hand and doing the same. He then took back Deans right wrist and held his forearm against a white surface with three holes in a line down the middle. Castiel pressed a button and Dean felt three sharp jabs fire into his arm.

“Fuck.” He almost yelped in shock, biting his bottom lip. He’d never liked needles. “What was that for?”

“One is a DNA sample for reference in future. One is for medical purposes, and the other is a tracker we developed recently which, instead of being a single chip, is a series of microchips that spread through your bloodstream and secure themselves in a selection of places in your body. They use your bloodstream and the pumping of your heart to send out a signal to our servers. The only way to interrupt the signal is to die, and even then we will find you at the last place we detected the signal. If you try to work around this, we can use the actions you took before your death to predict where your body will eventually be. We’ve never had an agent go missing. If your actions become suspicious, one of the agents monitoring you will report this either to a Seraph, of which there are currently two, or straight to an Archangel if your case seems dangerous enough to the network. The Seraph or Arch they report you to may decide to have you biologically bugged, but these methods are classified and only known to agents with Seraph or Archangel status. Your personal safety is up to you and your commanding Seraph if they care enough about you not dying. Archangels will have you terminated at any excuse.”

Dean stood silently for a moment, working through it all in his head. “Right.”

“Basically, to work with the network is in your best interests, and I suggest you don’t pull anything like that again, for your own sake.”

“Like what?”

“Like Lucifer.”

“Oh.”

Castiel continued to take Dean, or should I say ‘Lucifer’, through the registration process, logging his retina scan, method of death and network ID.

As they were leaving the room, Castiel stopped Dean for a second. “By the way, we’ve had a Lucifer before. He was a double agent and they were terminated in their first week without warning. Before you ask, since you’re so full of questions, I had to shoot her, in her own bed, while she begged me to let her live. I am the friendliest face you’re going to find round here, and with a name like that you’re treading dangerous water. Watch your back Dean, because I’m not watching it for you.” And with that, Castiel pushed through the door and into the reception are, leaving Dean to come to terms with just how screwed he was.

\-----<>\-----

**_Now_ **

He thought back to his training, remembering when he’d been in the exact same position. But then it was just for show, so he could learn. But he knew there was no getting out of this. He’d been trained to handle the CIA, FBI, MI6 and the likes, not Angels. Angels were unstoppable, he knew that now. He’d signed away his entire life just to be here, and what had he gained? Nothing.


End file.
